Insane Act Number One
by Riley 35
Summary: After the events of Vegas Night, Mr. Simpson has become jaded, but an encounter with Eli and Clare might change his viewpoint.


Insane Act Number One

The sound of Principal Simpson's loafers made soft padding noises against the marble floors as he made his way down one of the many hallways of Degrassi Community School, en route to his office. The grayish light of the early morning shone through the large windows and glass doors of the building as he took long, leisurely sips from the large mug of coffee he held; black, not an ounce of milk, two teaspoons of sugar. The fingers of his right hand wrapped around the handle of the mug with a steely grip. Lately, coffee seemed to be his crutch. Since the beginning of that particular school year, he'd found himself drinking cup after cup of the bitter drink. He questioned whether any of the other teachers noticed how he drained the coffee pot in the teacher's lounge. And this day had barely begun. Who could fathom what insane acts the students of the school would chose to commit. What even went on kids' heads these days? The way they spent their time; strip teases, stabbings, hazing? Back in his day they were satisfied with spending their time forming bands and making good music.

He took a long sip from his mug and let the acidity of the hot liquid invade his mouth.

Ah, music.

'_Everybody wants something they'll never give up. Everybody wants something they'll ta-_'

Unfortunately the music in his head came a screeching halt when his ears, sensitive to the softest noises after years of having to be vigilant to teenage shenanigans, heard shuffling from around the corner, opposite of the one he had been about to turn. He winced. It appeared he had stumbled across the first insane act of the day. It was halfway into the first class. The majority of kids should be in class, and if not in class in study hall. He froze completely and listened…

Abnormally loud breathing, soft sighs, hands shuffling over clothing.

He knew, all too well what those sounds indicated. He turned the corner, and as he suspected, there they were, standing in against the door of a hardly used utility closet, partially hidden by the arch of the doorway, but still visible to Simpson's well-trained eyes. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, his arms wrapped around her waist, hers around his neck, both sets of eyes closed, and lips pressed together.

He stopped and waited for them to become aware of his presence. But, they only continued passionately, too completely lost in each other to notice the irate, balding, post middle-age man, watching them with disapproval all over his face. Her hands moved into his long, dark hair, and he groaned, the moment seemingly intensified.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable, Simpson cleared his throat loudly and instantly the two pulled away from each other in surprise. He looked at the boy and was not surprised to see the face of the culprit.

"Mr. Goldsworthy." Simpson said irately, his voice filled with fatigue.

The junior had seemed to cause trouble ever since he'd arrived at the school. Simpson recalled becoming aware of the boy's presence at the school during the first week of the term. How could he not notice a boy who dressed in all black and drove a hearse, music playing loud enough to kill a small organism? Of course, Simpson had initially told himself not to judge a book by its cover. Hadn't Sean Cameron seemed quite the hooligan in his high school days? But, Mr. Simpson had watched the young man grow into a compassionate, brave man, serving his country, and even though he and Emma no longer dated, Snake considered Sean a part of the family.

And at first, it seemed this Elijah Goldsworthy character may not be as much trouble as his clothing suggested. After looking through his files, Simpson discovered the boy had taken advanced classes at his previous high school, and continued to do so at Degrassi, maintaining an A- average. Additionally, the boy stayed under the radar, avoiding any major scenes or attention. So, Simpson soon forgot about Elijah, his attention demanded by the tomfoolery occurring with the Torres boy on the football team, and the Torres boy who use to be a girl, and the Torres family in general. But Elijah's good behavior proved temporary. Before Simpson could blink, Elijah had provoked one Mark Fitzgerald into bringing a knife to a school dance and endangering not only himself, but innocent little Clare Edwards.

For the first time since encountering the pair, Snake took the time to look at Goldsworthy's companion, and almost dropped his mug of coffee when he identified the curly hair and blue eyes as that of the sophomore girl that had just been on his mind.

"Clare?" he questioned, the surprise evident in his voice.

A streak of scarlet appeared across Clare's face, while a lopsided smirk appeared on Elijah's.

And then Simpson began to connect the dots. Clare had been in the library when Elijah had lied about Fitzgerald setting off the stink bomb, backing up his story. Clare had been the one to explain to him the drama that happened during the Vegas Night Dance. But Simpson had simply attributed Clare's presence to her being caught up in a bad situation, a onetime fluke. He had never bothered to question in exactly what manner she was attached to the gothic boy.

Never would he have dreamed something romantic was going on between the pair. He had known Clare since she was a freshman. She was a diligent student in his gifted class, a member of the ninth grade robotics team, a loyal friend to his godson Conner, an all around good girl. So, not once, had he ever thought she would be dating a bad seed like Elijah Goldsworthy. But now, after catching the two of them in the midst of make-out session, he realized how blind he had been. How could he have failed to notice her constant presence around Elijah's misdemeanors? He had subconsciously brushed it off as a coincidence, or assumed they were merely acquaintances. But here it was, right in his face, undeniable.

"Mr. Simpson-" Clare began, repentance in her voice and the reddish tint still on her face.

But the principal cut her off. "First of all," he said in a voice that clearly showed his repressed anger. "It is against the rules for students to be anywhere in the school without the supervision of a faculty member. Second of all, PDA is also forbidden."

"Well, if you think about it," Eli said. "There's no one else around so it wasn't really a _public_ display of affection."

Clare gave Elijah a look that clearly said, 'Shut up!'

Simpson mulled over the boy's statement and realized he, did indeed, have a point. Unfortunately, when conceiving the new set of rules, neither Simpson nor any of the members of the PDA had thought to mention a restriction of _private_ displays of affection. It appeared Mrs. Torres was not as all knowing as she thought herself to be. Simpson wanted to laugh, but this Goldsworthy kid was too cocky for his liking.

"Regardless, you two are still breaking school rules by being unsupervised in the halls during class time, and engaging in less than appropriate behavior."

If Clare blushed any harder, she would surpass the coloring of the red, school-issued polo Elijah was wearing.

"What classes are you two supposed to be in now?"

"Homeroom." Clare said meekly.

"History."

Simpson paused for a second. "Elijah, get to your class, but I want to see you in my office immediately after school."

"Yes, sir."

The boy nodded and gave Clare a final look before turning to go to his class.

As soon as Elijah's footsteps had softened into silence, Simpson looked Clare directly in the eye.

"Clare, what are you doing with a boy like that?

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking clearly confused.

"That boy is no good Clare. I know you. You're a nice girl."

"Mr. Simpson. With all due respect, you don't know Eli. I know he looks like trouble, but he's really very harmless."

"I know he lied to me about Mark Fitzgerald and the stink bomb. I know he poisoned Mark's drink and provoked him into bringing out a knife, putting not only himself, but also you, in danger."

"He made some mistakes." Clare insisted. "Everyone does. I do. I didn't say anything when he blamed Fitz for the stink bomb. I set off the stink bomb in the first place, remember?"

That was right. For some reason Simpson had failed to register Clare's involvement with the stink bomb.

Mr. Simpson let out a heavy sigh.

"But, Clare, would you have been in that situation had you not been involved with Elijah?"

Clare opened her mouth to respond, but realized she could not argue with the principal's logic.

"I know sometimes teenage girls feel the need to act out-"

"I'm not acting out." Clare said, but her voice came out weak.

"Clare, you've always been such a bright, promising student." He paused, a wave sadness coming over him. "I remember your sister when she was your age," Darcy Edwards. What a sensitive subject for him, the girl who managed to cause immeasurable pain and trouble in his life. Her lie threatened his job, his marriage, his everything. Because of her, he had to endure everyone, his colleagues, his students, his wife and stepdaughter, looking at him, wondering if he was a rapist. And even those who swore to never have doubted, Spike, Emma, his good friends, he knew that at some point, maybe in the shortest moment of doubt, they had asked themselves; _could_ he have done it?

And yet, he could never bring himself to hate Darcy, knowing the horror she had gone through. In a way he almost understood her actions. She had been going out of her mind. One of the things she'd most treasured had been stolen from her. And when it seemed she was finally getting better, he was honestly happy for her, proud of her ability to recover from such dark depths.

"She was dedicated to her school work," he continued, remembering the different, young girl who currently stood in front of him. He could save this one. "Popular, cheer captain. She had it all going for her. But then she started hanging out with some kids who were not the most responsible, and things took a wrong turn." He studied the curly haired girl's face. He couldn't read her expression. "I don't want to see that happen to you."

To his surprise, her eyes had darkened.

"I'm not Darcy." She said firmly, defiantly. "I never have been, and I never will be. And, Mr. Simpson, Eli's not a bad person. He's actually one of the sweetest, most caring and sensitive people I've ever met. And he's been through a lot."

"I'm not saying Elijah's a bad person. I'm just saying some people have a tendency to end up in sticky situations. And Elijah has already proved he has a knack for that."

"But he's changing!" Simpson stepped back, not expecting such passion from her, her voice echoing slightly in the empty school corridor. "It's not easy, but he is. And I can't turn my back on him when he needs me. I won't."

After all, hadn't Sean Cameron made mistakes? Hadn't he lied, stolen, and hurt those who most cared about him? Where would he be if they abandoned him? Would he have been able to change? It occurred to Simpson, even if these kids had found new ways to go astray, ipecac poisonings, boiler room fiascos, internet stalkers, they were still just Sean Camerons and Darcy Edwards who needed guidance figures in their lives.

"Alright, Clare," He said softly. "If you say so, I'll take your word for it. You've always been a smart girl."

Clare smiled, a genuine, bright smile, that assured Snake she was still the same girl as the uniform wearing, protest making, girl he'd first met last year but, perhaps, a little wiser.

"Now get to your homeroom."

Clare nodded and turned to make her way to her class.

"Oh, and Clare?"

Clare turned back to the principal, the smile still on her face.

"A week's worth of afternoon detention, for your little act of indiscretion."

The smile quickly dropped, and Clare nodded in understanding before resuming her journey to the Media Immersion classroom.

Snake found himself smirking. Guidance figure or not, despite what people may think, he was no push over.


End file.
